


fallen leaves

by shadoedseptmbr



Series: Deeper Than All Roses [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Pre Relationship, The Herald's Rest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:35:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26882257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadoedseptmbr/pseuds/shadoedseptmbr
Summary: Cullen keeps watch.  Cole helps.
Relationships: Female Inquisitor/Cullen Rutherford
Series: Deeper Than All Roses [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/924288
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	fallen leaves

It is evening in the Herald's Rest and the violin has drawn him from his tower. The music is welcome after an enforced silence in two days of a withdrawal headache as is the half pint of cider Leliana had pressed into his hand with her fleeting smile. He sips as he watches the crowd, as diverse and colorful as any of the companions he knows well. Some of his officers are in the corner sharing a pint and he should go and meet them. But he hesitates, not quite ready to give up his watch.

The Inquisitor is leaning against the corner of a booth, watching Varric give a lesson in Wicked Grace to some of the younger scouts. She holds a cup of something warm in her right hand, the steam curling softly over the mug. The left is...as it often is, tucked against her back.

He can feel it... _him_ hovering. Seemingly as drawn to the music and warmth as Cullen is and just as reluctant to join in.

"is she alright?" He hesitates. The spirit has just returned from the Graves with her and Cullen's hoping. He's not sure what he's hoping. For insight, perhaps.

"She brought back roots for the garden. It made her happy to set them in the dirt."

"Ah." Well. He had been somewhat vague. The song changes, a little softer. One of her slender ears twitches and she casts a smile back to the bard. Perhaps it's a favorite? Something flickers across her face. Less of a smile, more of a grimace but she's smiling again when Varric draws her attention back to the game.

“Does it hurt her?” Cullen finally asks Cole, point blank. She has assured them all that it does not. Cassandra, Bull, and his soldiers have all said it seems to not affect her fighting. But Cole…and Cullen recognizes the dangers of naming a spirit, but he will give it as much credit as she does. He will support her.

Cole sees things. She holds that hand so strangely, when they aren’t watching.

And he needs to know. She isn’t his soldier…but surely he needs to know if she is shielding a weakness if he is to field her forces correctly?

The slight figure cocks his head. As if he knows what Cullen is really about ( _and, honestly, someone should he certainly doesn’t_ ) but Cole turns to watch Nyx... Mistress Lavellan drinking her small cup of tea in the corner of the tavern and listening to Varric’s tale with the marked hand carefully away from them.

“It does.” Cole finally says, dismayed. “Not like the bear did, with claws in her shoulder. Not like the arrow to her thigh, last week on the Coast.”

Cullen frowns. That wound hadn’t been reported.

But Cole is continuing, “Not bright and long like the magister’s knives.” And he pauses there as if he wonders what it means as much as Cullen does. But something else catches Cole’s attention and he follows the thought like a falling leaf. “ _Hahren Larel will forget to harvest the mistweed when they pass the cut to Starkhaven. Darin was to have his vallaslin done this month, I promised him grouse. Tilda is such a fine pony but emm’asha listened. She always finds the clover first, though, she’d be so alone._ ”

The last words settle hard on Cullen. “She’s homesick.” Shaking his head, he tries to clarify, “I meant her hand.”

Cole only answers faintly, “That is how it hurts.” And he’s gone when Cullen looks up again.


End file.
